text_original: We feel their quietudes confess To war's futility, that now Above the dust so swift to slay Alight the lily's tender snows, And on the long forgiven clay Its foeman's children loose the rose.
text_transcription: WE FEEL THEIR QUIETUDES CONFESS TOWARDS FUTILITY THAT NOW ABOVE THE DUST SO SWIFT TO SLAY ALIGHT THE LILIES TENDER SNOWS AND ON THE LONG FORGIVEN CLAY ITS FOEMEN'S CHILDREN LOSE THE ROSE
phonemes: wiː fˈiːl ðɛɹ kwˈaɪəɾuːdz kənfˈɛs tə wˈɔːɹz fjuːtˈɪlᵻɾi, ðæt nˈaʊ əbˌʌv ðə dˈʌst sˌoʊ swˈɪft tə slˈeɪ ɐlˈaɪt ðə lˈɪliz tˈɛndɚ snˈoʊz, ænd ɔnðə lˈɔŋ fɚɡˈɪvən klˈeɪ ɪts fˈoʊmənz tʃˈɪldɹən lˈuːs ðə ɹˈoʊz.